Doth I Protest
by Zevazo
Summary: Sirius and Remus have left school and are living together ... and that's the least of their problems. Sequel to Collar, which there's no real need to read.


**Doth I Protest**

Disclaimer – all the characters, except for dear Chris and the waitress, belong to J.K. Rowling. Title shamelessly stolen from Alanis Morrissette, though I can't spell her last name, and the rest is mine.

Note -- once this was four chapters, but I decided I didn't care enough to break it up again. Not the best in the series -- if you aren't enjoying it, tell me why and try the next one, it's better.

* * *

"I mean it," said Sirius. "I think you can do it."

Remus arched an eyebrow. "You believe in me, am I right?"

Sirius nodded, completely grave for once in his life. Remus pondered that for a while. While he was pondering, the waitress came to ask if they needed anything else. They'd been there too long, just sitting. Sirius charmed her away with a smile and a few words. He watched her saunter off, her fine legs shown to advantage by her simple little jade-green skirt.

They were seated across a table from one another on the patio of a little sidewalk cafe where they often came to have breakfast and talk. It was a seedy place in the down-at-the-heels part of town where they had their flat, but the food was spectacular. Remus smiled at the way Sirius's hair was curling in the mist – he thought it looked good that way, but Sirius hated it."What's funny?" asked Sirius.

"Nothing," replied Remus.

Sirius scowled threateningly, and Remus laughed. "Oh, no, the wrath of Sirius," he said melodramatically. "If you must know, I was thinking of what you're going to say later when you see how curly your hair is getting."

Sirius put his hand up to his hair in a gesture that reminded Remus uncannily of James and cursed good-naturedly. "Anyway. I'm sure we could pull strings if we had to, I have a cousin in publishing."

"But your cousins hate you," Remus reminded him helpfully. "And I don't want to pull strings. I want a publisher who wants my book, not someone who owes my lover a favor."

"Anyone would want your book if they'd just read it," Sirius replied with spirit. "And what's so wrong with me believing in you? I would never have gotten the Auror job without you, that's for sure."

Remus could have said that he most certainly would have, and anyway, it wasn't a job yet, Sirius was just in training – but he wasn't about to spoil the contented mood of the day.

"Let's go," said Sirius, rising and gallantly offering Remus his hand. Remus took it and allowed himself to be helped up. Sirius smiled puppyishly, and then pecked Remus on the lips in front of everyone, including the waitress with the nice legs. "Exhibitionist," muttered Remus. Sirius smiled, not agreeing, but certainly not diagreeing either. He threw a tip on the table. Ever the gentleman, he tipped excellently well.

They set out toward home. Sirius smiled, looking sideways at Remus. "You still look gorgeous in that coat."

Remus shrugged with a faint, embarassed smile of his own. He was never comfortable with flattery. It was a very good coat – Sirius had bought it for him on the spur of the moment, and made up some strange holiday as an excuse. Remus had tried to make him take it back, but Sirius had refused. "You look beautiful in it," Sirius had insisted. "And besides, your robes are shabby and your Muggle clothing is a disgrace, so this makes it better." In the end, Remus had accepted, far better pleased than he'd pretended.

Sirius interrupted his musings. "If you can't accept a pointed compliment, let me make it clearer. I have to leave tonight, and I'd like to hurry home, if that's all right with you."

Remus laughed out loud. "All right, all right." He quickened his pace, ignoring the glow of pride and pleasure when Sirius took his hand to make him go faster. _Now who's the exhibitionist? _he wondered wryly.

* * *

At five o'clock that evening, Sirius emerged from the bedroom, still shower-damp under his bathrobe. He was freshly shaven and his hair was everywhere from a vigorous toweling. He glanced at the table, graced by their chipped dishes, and managed to frown and smile at the same time. "Remy," he said.

"Don't call me Remy," said Remus automatically, transferring something deliciously fragrant over to the table.

"Remus, you shouldn't do this."

Remus pointed to Sirius's accustomed place at the table. "Sit down. I like making dinner."

Sirius sat. "But you don't have to spend this much time on a gourmet meal ..."

"It's hardly a gourmet meal," said Remus, searching through their drawers for a ladle. He kept the kitchen well-organized when he could, but Sirius, if left alone in it, went through like a puppy from hell. "I can't find anything if it's organized," Sirius insisted.

Remus emerged triumphantly from a lower cupboard and came back to the table. Sirius was watching him with a proprietary little smile. "Don't look at me like that," Remus said shortly.

"Sorry," said Sirius. He looked back at the table. "I wish I could cook," he said brightly.

Remus asked dryly, "Do I detect guilt at making your lover slave to feed you well when you're going away all week? Surely guilt has never crossed the mind of Sirius Black."

"Not usually," said Sirius, looking a bit guilty. "God, you did all this while I was in the shower?"

"Most of it," said Remus, ferrying the last dish over to the table. "You take long showers. Really, I don't mind. Eat it, though, or else I will mind."

Sirius took a few bites, then rolled his eyes heavenward with pleasure. "Your cooking's as good as your sex."

"I'll write that compliment in my heart," Remus snorted. "Unfortunately, though, I'm not as pretty as the lovely waitress in the green skirt."

"Was it green?" asked Sirius.

Remus offered up a twisted smile. "Oh, I see, you were envisioning her without the green skirt."

"You're twice as good-looking as her," Sirius said with convincing charm, "but I thought the skirt was blue."

"It was not blue," said Remus. "It did not even resemble blue."

Sirius stared at him, then pointed an accusatory spoon. "Are you jealous?" he demanded.

"Not a bit," said Remus. "Just making conversation. But it was green."

"Blue-green," said Sirius.

"Green-blue," Remus concluded.

Sirius applied himself to his plate for a few minutes. Once they'd finished, he helped Remus take the dishes to the sink. "I was wondering," said Sirius.

"You make me nervous," said Remus with a soft laugh, "given the last question you started with those words."

Sirius grinned. "No. You have – I think you have scars in your mouth. It's a bit strange. What did you do, try to eat a few Sickles?"

"Something like that," Remus lied breezily. "I was pretty young. I don't remember if I actually put the thing in my mouth, or if ..."

"If your father did it," Sirius finished. "He's an utter shit, you know that?" Remus felt a little guilty. Some of the scars that he blamed on his father he'd actually gotten in his third and fourth years. Then again, his father really was an utter shit.

Remus paused. "Funny you should mention it," he said. "How long will you be gone?"

"Until, um, Friday," said Sirius. It was Monday night. "Why?"

"I thought I might visit my dad," said Remus, trying to sound casual.

Sirius was silent. "I haven't seen him since before he went into the hospital," Remus hastened to explain, "and I'm the only son he has. I should go and see him. He's my dad, after all ..."

"You don't owe him anything," Sirius said harshly. "All he did with you was keep you on a leash. He fed you occasionally and kicked you when he was angry or drunk, which was usually."

"Sirius –" Remus began, but Sirius caught him roughly and pulled him close, then pressed his lips the the werewolf's face. Remus stopped trying to talk as Sirius held him. Sirius licked the inside of his mouth, tasting bitter and sweet, making Remus shiver with pleasure. The terrycloth robe was slipping open, and Remus slid a hand between the cloth and his lover's warm skin. Sirius moaned softly into his willing, open mouth.

Finally Remus pulled reluctantly back. "You have to get dressed," he said. "If we keep this up, you'll be late."

Sirius sighed regretfully, then laughed. "Animals, aren't we?"

Remus smiled and followed Sirius into the bedroom. He watched his lover look for something suitable for work. "Are you sure you'll be all right?" asked Sirius. "If you waited I could come with you."

"I'll be fine," said Remus. "He's just a lonely, senile old man, and it'll do him good to see that somone cares, even if he forgets I was ever there by next week. It'll do me good to forgive him." Ultimately, he knew this to be true, but Remus was not nearly as forgiving as most people thought. He was just quiet about his grudges.

"He hasn't earned this from you," Sirius chided.

Remus just smiled, a sad, a beautiful smile that melted Sirius' heart. "If we waited for people to earn our love, we wouldn't ever love anyone," he said tranquilly. Sirius had yet to figure out whether he actually meant these little gems of philosophy. "And incidentally, though you didn't give me a chance to answer, I don't know that my father's ever been drunk in his life."

"He would have to be drunk to hurt someone like you," said Sirius as he pulled his robes on. "And if he's so lonely he shouldn't have driven you away. I don't think he loves anyone."

"He loved my mother," Remus pointed out.

"That's not an excuse. He was nasty even before she killed herself." It was a very, very old discussion that neither of them had to think about.

"We don't know that she did," said Remus. She probably had and they both knew it. "But I agree that I don't know what she saw in him. He was never a pleasant man to get along with." He rose to accompany Sirius toward the fireplace. "Now, you, on the other hand ..."

Sirius kissed his cheek. "Maybe I could get off work for an hour to come with you," he said.

"No. He won't bite." Remus kissed him back.

"When are you going?" Sirius asked, still unwilling.

"Probably Wednesday," said Remus, "unless I decide to go earlier and get it over with. I'm meeting Christopher for lunch on Thursday – I was going to bring you, but that didn't work, so I'll just go alone." He smiled at Sirius.

"Don't go off alone with Chris, all right?" Sirius said mulishly.

Remus shook his head. "Just because he's sworn off women doesn't mean he likes men. Besides, you're too much for me already." They grinned at each other. "I'll see you on Friday."

"See you then," said Sirius, and kissed Remus again before walking into the grate. "The Ministry of Magic!" he announced, and vanished.

Remus loved Sirius more than he'd ever loved anyone. His love life was all he had ever dreamed of and more. There were problems, naturally. He was sometimes annoyed by Sirius's insensitivity, by his slight immaturity – but he loved Sirius, and his quirks were endearing as often as they were annoying. No one would publish his book – but Sirius assured him that it was only a matter of time. His father had scarred him, physically and otherwise – but it seemed that Sirius could heal at least some of the scars. It was perfect, really. Better than anyone had any right to expect.

Then why, Remus demanded of himself, scrubbing the dishes so hard that they clattered and chimed in the sink, why do I feel like my entire life is taking place in a waiting room?

To that question he had no answer.

* * *

Wednesday night. The front door thudded. "Remy?" Sirius called. "Remus? Are you here?" In the bedroom, Remus curled into a tighter ball on the bed. He didn't answer. He heard Sirius move closer across the carpet, then the door opened with a familiar warm creak. "Oh, shit," Sirius said tiredly from the doorway. "What did he say to you this time?"

"I'm okay," said Remus without moving or opening his eyes. "What are you doing home?"

"Came to check on you," said Sirius. He dropped his jacket on the chair and came to sit on the edge of the bed. He began to stroke Remus' caramel-colored hair, and Remus sighed contentedly, leaning a little closer. "Did you go see him?"

"Yes," Remus answered wearily, anticipating the next question: _Want to tell me about it?_

"Want to tell me about it?" asked Sirius. He stretched out full length on the bed and pulled Remus close to him.

There was a gleam of gold as Remus' eyes opened. "No, actually." _Talk anyway. It'll help. _He'd had this conversation before, many times, and not just with Sirius.

"Talk anyway," Sirius commanded. "It'll help. And I'm curious, of course."

Remus rolled on his back. "I went to see my dad. We talked. He s-said cruel, insulting things, and then I c-came home ..." Disgusted, he noticed the return of his childish stutter. He forced out the rest, wiping tears from his face. "And I o-o-overr-re-" he took a breath and tried again. "Overreacted. I'll be okay."

"Your stutter says you're not in the least okay. What's it like there?"

"Well, it's really n-not bad," said Remus, "considering." He was glad of the change of subject, which allowed him to focus on something less emotional until he got his voice under control. "It doesn't look like a hospital, but you can smell it. I can, anyway. It's pretty, though, lots of windows. This nurse asked who I wanted to see. I t-told her. H-hang on." He breathed deeply until he was confident he could speak without stuttering. "All right. He lives in a room with two beds, but he's the only one in there. You know, everything there is pink? I mean, the cups and everything else made of plastic. It's the most hideous baby-vomit pink. There was this sweet old lady in the hall who was knitting a sweater for her grandson. Ugliest sweater I've ever seen." He laughed shakily. "My dad was in an armchair by one of the windows, and the nurse went to him and said, 'Mr. Lupin, your son is here to see you.' And he turned around and just looked at me."

"How did he look?" Sirius asked gently.

Remus sighed. "Old. Strange, I never thought of my dad being old. I thought he'd always be strong, and bigger than me ... you know, I'm taller than him now? And it's only been a couple of years since I saw him. I was sixteen when I left for seventh year, it's been almost four years, I guess, but it doesn't seem long enough for me to be taller than my father. I'm not taller than _anyone_." He laughed, knowing full well he must sound almost hysterical.

"Well, you grew a lot in seventh year," Sirius pointed out. "And what did he say?"

"Nothing, at first. Just looked at me like he didn't know who I was. Then he said, 'Yes, I see. Hello, Remus.' And the nurse said something friendly and went to talk to the old lady about her hideous sweater. I said, 'Hello, Dad,' and he said, 'You aren't my son. I've heard ...'" Remus stole an apprehensive glance at Sirius, who nodded encouragingly. "He said, 'I've h-heard about you and your f-f-faggot boyfriend. Haven't you embarassed me enough?'"

Sirius hugged Remus tightly. "I told you I should have gone with you."

"What were you going to do?" Remus asked sharply. "Hex an old man in a home?"

"Go on," said Sirius.

Remus went on. "I didn't say anything, and he started muttering something about damned Muggles, even though it was him who decided to go there instead of St. Mungo's. Just glaring at me like it's all my fault he's dying of ... whatever. I won't even try to say it. It's him who's allergic to every potion we can give him."

"Not that the world won't be a better place without him," muttered Sirius.

Remus closed his eyes. "Don't say that."

Sirius slipped a hand under his lover's shirt and traced the scars on his back. "I won't, but I'll be thinking it." Remus shuddered with pleasure at his touch. An odd reaction, to be sure, but Sirius never seemed to mind. The loving touch on the marks of old pain was somehow intoxicating.

"Fair enough," said Remus. "So he glared at me, and then wanted to know why I wasn't talking. I tried to make polite conversation, but then he forgot he was talking to me and would just glower at anything within glowering distance. I was about to leave when he finally said, 'Remus, remember when I would hit you?'"

"Damn right you _do_," said Sirius. He sounded relieved. "So, did he apologize, or –"

"If you want to hear it, shut up. He said that, and I s-said, 'Yes, Dad, I do remember.' He grabbed my arm and pulled me closer to him, and said, 'You deserved all of it and again.' And then he hit me." Remus felt his tears starting again, and scrubbed at his eyes with his hand, ashamed of his weakness. "I thought I'd never have to let him do that again. But what the hell was I supposed to do? He's a n-nasty old man, but he's dying, for God's sake, I'd help him if it was curable, but it's not."

Sirius kissed Remus lightly, and he turned his face into the pillow and cried silently. Sirius held him. At last he sighed and looked up at Sirius again. "Sorry. Didn't mean to break down on you."

"You're just too good-hearted to be real," said Sirius, his tone half amused and half admiring.

"But I am real," Remus said miserably. "If I wasn't real this wouldn't hurt me. I'm too thin-skinned. I want my fur back."

Sirius laughed lightly. "You get your wish. Tonight's the full moon."

Remus sat bolt upright. "Oh, damn it, I forgot."He neverforgot. How could he have panicked so? "Is it ..."

"No, you have a couple of hours yet," Sirius assured him. "But I brought you something," he added roguishly.

Remus groaned. "This had better not be like last time you said that ..."

"It's better," Sirius assured him. He jumped up. "Be right back."

He went outside to the table where he'd dropped the box. Coming back, he paused in the doorway. Remus was seated on the edge of the rumpled bed, his hands covering his face. As Sirius watched, he raked back his hair and straightened his back. Sirius smiled, surprised by a flood of tenderness. Remus was so goddamned _beautiful_, and he didn't know it. He was charmingly innocent, and so good he made Sirius feel grimy. People like Remus were too good to be true. After all the shit his father gave him, he still longed for the man's approval. He would forgive anything. And this was just an example.

Sirius grinned, struck by an idea to cheer his lover up, and made a flying leap at the bed, catching Remus and tumbling him down against the pillows, and kissed him quite throughly. Started to, anyway – he soon realized that Remus was protesting. He stopped kissing him and lay on his elbows, most of his body still touching Remus. "What's up?" he asked. Remus didn't answer, and Sirius groaned and rolled off of him. "You shouldn't let him get to you so much."

"Sorry," Remus apologized.

Sirius touched his shoulder, suppressing his faint irritation. "Don't be." He rolled over so the upper part of his torso was hanging completely off the bed, and stretched his arms as far as he could. He snagged the package with his fingertips and flipped upright. Remus was laughing. "Ouch," said Sirius. "Here."

Curiously, Remus pulled off the brown paper. "Oh, my God," he said.

It was a book, a very finely bound book. On the cover were the words _Fur and Fangs: A Study of Part-Human Prejudice, by Remus J Lupin_. Remus looked up at Sirius. "Who did you get to do it?" he asked.

"I gave the manuscript to a friend," said Sirius, "who works for a publisher, who also read the manuscript and immediately decided to publish it. That's the first copy to be printed. What do you think?" he asked anxiously.

"Sirius," said Remus, and ran out of words. Instead, he reached out tentatively to Sirius and placed a hand behind his neck, drawing him close for a kiss. The kiss was close-mouthed and almost chaste, but held a cherishing intimacy, and meant all the more because Remus initiated it. "Wonderful," Remus whispered. "Thank you."

Sirius drew him close and held him, feeling uncharacteristically warm. "I'm glad you like it," he said. And he really was.

Remus drew back with a sigh. "You need to get back – to work," he said reluctantly.

Had Sirius mistaken a slight emphasis on the last word? "I'll stay with you for the transformation tonight," he offered.

Remus shook his head firmly. "No; they need you at work."

"All I'll be doing is sleeping in the overnighter quarters and dreaming of my beautiful lover," Sirius teased. Guessing the source of Remus' discomfort, he added, "I'm not that mad for sex. I can abstain for a night if it bothers you."

Remus' expression became ironic. "All right. You do that."

Sirius smiled. "I will, much as you may tempt me." He got up and pulled Remus to his feet. "How about I throw something together for dinner?"

"I'm _not_ tired enough to let you near my kitchen," said Remus, and led the way.

_So Sirius is home_, thought Remus. _Sirius is back home, not having a problem with leaving work. Of course, they'd forgive him for taking a night off – he's young and impetuous and they have him working a great many night shifts. But he feels no need to call in. And he brings me this gift – this wonderful gift. He kept it a secret for so long, and all along he must have been bursting to tell me, like an overexcited puppy that can't be taught to sit and stay. As though it will make everything all right, as though it will erase what my father and Lucius have done to me._

_As though it will make up for the smell of a woman's perfume on his hands._

* * *

"You're both completely insane," James opined.

"We're all insane," Remus pointed out. "That's why we're all friends."

"I second that," said Lily from the next room. "But what specifically are we talking about?"

"Life in general," James called. "Remus and Sirius in particular."

"Good news," said Remus. "My book is being published."

James grinned. "Excellent! I knew someone would do it eventually."

"Congratulations!" Lily sang from the kitchen. She came in and bent to kiss James. "We have some news too," she said, smiling. "I'm pregnant."

Remus looked up delightedly, and stood to hug her and kiss her cheek. "Boy or girl?" he demanded.

"A little boy for me to corrupt," said James, grinning. "Sirius is going to land the kid in jail by his twelfth birthday."

"Name?" Remus said expectantly.

"Harry James Potter," Lily announced proudly. "Harry was my dad's name."

Remus looked at her guardedly. "Promise me it's not short for Harold or Harvard or anything like that."

James laughed. "No, I knew you'd never forgive us. Just Harry."

Remus smiled happily. "Perfect."

"We're naming you and Sirius godparents," Lily added. She was glowing.

"Can you do that?" asked Remus.

Lily shrugged. "Technically, no, but you and Sirius come as a set, so we'll make him legal godfather. But you'll know that we mean you too. Honestly, would we entrust our child to Sirius without your influence? He'd turn out a delinquent."

"And if we trusted him to you without Sirius, he'd turn out a bookworm," said James.

Remus and Lily traded "whatever-shall-we-do-about-him" glances. "Haven't you told Sirius?" he asked.

"We thought he'd be coming with you this morning," said James.

"No, he's at work," said Remus. "Haven't you seen him?"

Lily and James looked at one another. "Uh, no," said James. "I haven't seen him since Monday."

Remus pulled himself together. "Probably just missed each other. So when are you due?" he asked Lily.

"End of July," said Lily. "So, are you doing anything today?"

"I'm meeting my friend Chris for lunch," said Remus. "I have a social life today, don't I? Why do you ask?"

She looked significantly at James, who cleared his throat and toyed with the spoon in his coffee cup.

"Moony," said James, "I think you need to have talk with Sirius."

"Why, is he accusing me of frigidity behind my back again?" asked Remus without thinking, then clapped a hand over his mouth. Lily giggled.

James smiled weakly. "Not exactly. I don't think you ask enough of him, Remus. You're so obviously wrapped around his finger. I don't think he's ready to commit yet, honestly. Not to you. What I'm trying to say is, I think you're basically asking him to use you."

Remus looked at Lily. "Do you agree?"

"Somewhat," she said.

Remus nodded and drained his cup. "There's something you have to understand, Prongs," he said. Between them, using the old Marauder nicknames meant a purposeful, honest conversation among friends who were too close to hold back. "I know Sirius doesn't commit well yet. Maybe he won't ever, though I hope that isn't the case. And I know I'm wrapped around his finger, as you so originally put it." He flashed a smile. "But I love him, James. I don't care. I could put up with a whole lot for him."

James mumbled something, and Lily gave him a sharp look. "What?" said Remus.

"Nothing," said James. Remus, however, was fairly sure he'd said something along the lines of, "How much?"

Remus looked into Lily's sympathetic eyes. "I know, Lily," he said. "I know he's cheating on me. But it's not going to be that way always." He set down his cup with a firm clunk. _Don't make a liar out of me, Sirius, _he thought._ Please don't make a liar out of me._

* * *

Christopher Stirling had been a Ravenclaw in Remus' year at Hogwarts. He now worked as a tutor for wizarding children. He was a small man, smaller even than Remus, and had jet-black hair and large, innocent blue eyes. He was one of Remus' best friends.

"Where's Sirius?" he asked as Remus approached the table.

"Work," said Remus. Such a comfortable lie. "How've you been?"

Christopher shrugged. "Fine."

Chris was that rare thing, a genuinely nice person. He was physically quite handsome, though, as Remus had told Sirius, he was sworn off women after an engagement ended badly. He was quite brilliant, but curiously lacking in anything resembling a sense of humor. Remus found him refreshing, charming.

"I have something to tell you," said Remus, and placed his book on the table.

Christopher read the title. "Remus," he said, "that's excellent." He picked up the book and examined it. Remus felt an anxious pride, as though someone were evaluating his child. "Beautiful binding – must be a good publisher." Chris set the book down reverently. "When did you find out?"

"Yesterday," Remus said cheerfully. "Sirius found a publisher for me." For the first time, it occurred to Remus to wonder what "friend" had done this favor.

He watched Christopher for a while, meditatively, and Chris looked inquisitively at him. Remus decided to be perfectly frank.

"Chris," he said, "tell me if I'm reading you right, so if I'm wrong, it'll save both of us a bit of embarrassment. Would you like to sleep with me?"

Christopher cast his eyes down at the table, blushing. "Well, yes, but ... I didn't think you'd notice ... and ..."

"I don't mind, I don't think less of you," said Remus gently. "I'd like to."

Chris glanced up. "What about Sirius? Won't he be furious with you?"

Remus gave a harsh bark of laughter. "Sirius is living in a glass house right now," he said. "He's not in any position to throw stones at me."

* * *

Remus came home that evening to find Sirius in the kitchen. "You're off early," he commented. His tone normal, his words perfectly ordinary. Sirius saw right through it.

"Have a nice lunch with dear Chris?" he asked.

"I did, thanks," replied Remus, very levelly.

"And how about whatever else you've been doing for the past five or six hours?" Sirius inquired sarcastically.

Remus looked him right in the eyes. "Perfectly fine," he said, and turned his back.

"You slept with him, didn't you?" Sirius accused.

"Perhaps." He worked very hard on the facade of indifference.

Sirius demanded, "Yes or no? Were you cheating on me, Remy?"

"Sirius," he said softly.

"Am I just not enough for you?"

"Sirius, don't be stupid," Remus said tonelessly.

"Or is that why you pull away from me?"

Remus spun around, furious. "What is it to you?" he snarled. "Do you think I'm blind, Sirius? How many nights have you spent away from home lately?"

Sirius paled. "I was at work, Remy."

"Work, hell," Remus snapped. "I'm not stupid."

They stared at each other from opposite ends of the room. "Well," said Sirius, on the defensive now, "what did you expect? I mean, really, Remy."

"That is not my name!" he growled.

"_Remus,"_ said Sirius between his teeth, "I don't know what you expected. I'm not gay. I just happen to be in love with a man, but that doesn't mean I have no interest ..."

"Don't even say that," said Remus coldly.

Sirius glared. "I'm trying to explain ..."

"Well, don't," Remus cut him off curtly. "Not by lying. If you loved me ... no," he stopped himself. "I am not having this conversation."

"Don't, then," Sirius raged. "How can you guilt me? Aren't you the forgiving one here? It was never anything real, Remus, it was just sex, for God's sake!"

"It always is," Remus said spitefully.

"You always forgive me, but you don't trust me! Why? I have needs, Remus, half the time you're as lusty as me, and then the next minute you're cringing away from me!"

"That," Remus said loudly, "is because your _dear_ cousin Lucius Malfoy raped me when I was thirteen."

Silence descended. Sirius was staring at him, silver-grey eyes wide in his shock. His lips were slightly parted. He looked beautiful. Remus closed his eyes. He'd never intended Sirius to know. He'd never intended anyone to know. "Are you happy now?" he whispered, and turned away, tense and in pain.

At last, Sirius spoke. "Remy, I'm so sorry," he said softly.

Remus opened his amber eyes and gave him a wry, twisted smile. "He's also the first one who ever called me Remy."

Sirius winced. "Tell me you're joking," he ordered.

Remus shook his head, lips tight, and Sirius crossed the room in three strides to take Remus in his arms. Startled, Remus pulled back, but Sirius drew him close and held him until his trembling stilled. "I'm so sorry," Sirius said quietly in his ear. "I had no idea. I had no clue. God, I am so stupid. Why did you never tell me?" The anguish in his voice made Remus hug him more tightly. He didn't answer. He couldn't answer that. Sirius asked again, "Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped, I could have hexed him into oblivion for you. God, we should have told Dumbledore, that's a crime, Remus, we could have made him pay for it ..." Remus placed his fingertips against Sirius's lips to shut him up. The pleading, puppy look in Sirius' eyes demanded in answer.

"At the time I was scared to tell you," Remus said quietly. "He knew that I was a werewolf." He pushed away from Sirius. "Later ... just before he graduated ... he told me how he knew. He overheard you and James talking.about it." Remus knew it was cruel to say this, knew how it would hurt Sirius, but it had to come out now. He had to say it. "That's why I can forgive you for everything else. There is nothing else you've done, nothing else you could do as bad as all that."

Sirius was silent. "Remus," he whispered, his voice so anguished and tender that it brought tears the the werewolf's eyes. Remus turned away, unable to face kindness just yet. Sirius reached out hesitantly to touch his shoulder. "Remus," he said again, "how many times?"

He couldn't bear to tell the truth. "Just once," he lied. "He – groped me a few times after that, but never ... never that, again."

"Good," Sirius breathed. He wrapped his arms around Remus. "I can sleep on the couch tonight, if you want – I mean, memories, or whatever –"

"No," said Remus. "No, I'd like you to stay with me. Just ... don't ..."

"Right," said Sirius. "Of course not." After a bit of a pause, he added, "_Did_ you sleep with Chris?"

"Yes," said Remus. "But ... well, he's not you."

Sirius smiled, obviously well pleased.

_No one's you, Sirius, _thought Remus. _No one else could ever be you._

* * *

Lying in bed next to Sirius that night, Remus was startled by the thought, _It isn't enough_. The mental voice that stated this was flat, cold, and absolutely not to be argued with. _It isn't enough._

But Sirius was here, Sirius was his for now, and maybe it wasn't enough, or maybe it would cease to be enough but Remus needed it. He loved Sirius and he needed him. So it would have to be enough. And for this very moment, for right here and now, it was.

**End**

A/N: Well, that's it. Please review. If you would like to read a slightly happier one, the sequel is called "Thanks for Howling." In that one, things finally look up for our favorite werewolf. Also, if you're really into Sirius/Remus slash, there's a series _much_ better than this one by an author named mysid. Her "Lovers for Tonight" series makes this one look like a kindergarten story. I especially enjoyed the gay bar scene. If you want gratuitous violence (i.e. rape, butcher knives and steak that screams when you poke it with a fork) try "Even the Light Can Die Out," by Twistedmaniac. Ta.


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